


When The Dogs Howl

by DefiFox



Series: A Samhain Saga [2]
Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Confusion, Fear, Jack o' the Lantern, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Various Apparitions, demon child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27300475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefiFox/pseuds/DefiFox
Summary: The barrier between worlds is thinnest tonight- and an ancient troublemaker sees the sky once again. Time to find some friends..Hecate's sight sharpens; she knows what will happen if she doesn't intervene.Rogue's players come together for one last dinner to close off their year.
Relationships: Steven "Hans sama" Liv/Finn "Finn" Wiestål
Series: A Samhain Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932034
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	When The Dogs Howl

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!
> 
> Please proceed with caution if you're not a big fan of horror or spooks. There's some violence in here as well as lots of panic- please take care <3

Wind rages against the walls of the restaurant, where Steven and his team sit chatting amiably, tucked away in the corner of the room. Though he doesn’t know the name of the beverage they’re all drinking, he knows it’s amazing, warming him up from the inside and making him feel all warm and fuzzy. Finn’s shoulder resting against his heavily contributes to that feeling, and so does the look of their intertwined hands resting on the table. 

“Emil, you’re going home tomorrow, right?”

Emil looks up at Finn’s question. “That was the plan, but I’m probably staying a few more days, to take things easy with all the travelling and stuff.”

Finn takes a sip of his drink and nods. His face scrunches up slightly as he thinks, something Steven absolutely adores about him. “Yeah, makes sense. I think I’ll go home same day as Steven, but I have no idea when that is.” He grins softly as he looks at Steven.

Steven smiles back at him and then an idea pops in his head. They’ve been talking about it for days now, but have never quite made final plans. “Can I come with you to Sweden, actually?” he asks innocuously.

Stammering Finn is his favorite, honestly. His cheeks turn a cherry red and with his free hand he traces his collarbone repetitively. It’s kind of his signature gesture, when he’s taken aback by something or someone. “I- uh, you want to come with me? Your family already misses you, they can’t stop calling you every other day.”

With a grin Steven recalls last night, when the two of them had finally settled into bed after a long day of trying their hand at baking. They’d soon figured out that there were a lot of areas that needed improvement, like Finn’s patience and Steven’s whisking techniques, and both their abilities to restrain themselves around throwable things and their partner. By the time the cupcakes were finished, the remaining flour was everywhere except in the pack, where it should be.

After a thorough shower they had just gotten comfortable in bed when Steven’s phone started ringing. Finn moaned as he comically plugged his ears, and Steven sighed wistfully as he untangled himself from the living heater next to him. He picked up the phone, only to hear his mother go off about how worried she was after the picture he’d sent her.

With a start Steven realized that the picture had shown Finn, shirt covered in red splatters. “It was just jam, mom”, he practically howled into the telephone. “We were baking.”

His mother had calmed down throughout the rest of the conversation, but it was clear that she really missed him.

Steven shrugs, tasting sugar on his tongue. “I think my family can wait. I want to meet yours, first.”

Finn beams with happiness as he gives him a quick peck on the lips. “And after, I can come to your home for Christmas!”

Steven affectionally bumps his forehead to Finn’s, and they sit there for a moment. “Sounds amazing”, he murmurs as their lips practically touch.

A gagging sound comes from the other side of the table, where Oskar is trying his best to look disgusted. “I didn’t sign up for this sappy shit, man.” The pride and glee in his eyes suggest otherwise, and Steven happily swipes his thumb over Finn’s hand.

“So we can fly with three then?” Emil asks, seemingly unfazed. Of all of their team, he’s the one most accustomed to the idea of Finn and Steven being a thing. Maybe because he’s Finn’s best friend, and had known of what was going on long before something actually happened. 

One look at Finn is enough to make Steven nod. Though he keeps listening and laughing along with his friends after that, he finds his mind wandering off, to a place farther north than he remembers travelling. A place where he’ll get to spend his full days being with Finn, going on long walks together in woods that smell like pine and coarse dirt and maybe see some animals darting away from their presence, getting to know his entire family, now in person instead of through awkward conversations over the phone and watching tons of shows together, cuddled up under Finn’s extra fluffy bear-rug-shaped blanket that he got from his mom one Christmas. God, that sounds like heaven.

Thirty minutes into a heated discussion between Kacper and Finn about the best places to eat, Emil clears his throat.  
“I’m gonna head home, guys.”

Kacper looks at him with amazement. “You? So early?” Judging by the nods of agreement from everyone, they share his sentiment. Steven sure as hell does.

Emil grins and shoves Kacper playfully. “Yes, me so early. I’m a bit tired, and my girlfriend wants to call tonight.”

“That’s so cute.”

Oskar sighs dramatically. “I think I’m gonna puke. What is it with you all tonight?”

Kacper pats him on the back sympathetically. “Nothing you would understand, old man.”

They all erupt in laughter, and even Oskar can’t hold back a smile. Ever since he’s joked a while ago that he views them all as his nephews or younger brothers in some way, they keep finding ways to mention it again. Kacper has proven to posses exceptional talent when it comes to teasing people older than him.

Once the laughter dies down, Kacper finishes his drink in one fluent motion, clinks the glass onto the table and says, “I’ll come too.”

“Is your girlfriend trying to ruin our boys night out as well?” Oskar asks jokingly. There’s no venom in his voice, there never really is. 

Kacper shakes his head dismissively. “No. But if she did,” he said, throwing a teasing look towards Emil, “I would just ask for a different time.”

“Glad we don’t have those problems”, Finn whispers in Steven’s ear, startling him. He turns to smile affectionately at him, shortly letting himself take in what he has. Quite something, what with the insane cheekbones, cute blush, fluffy silver hair and gorgeous eyes. He smiles to himself as he returns his attention to his team, hyperaware of Finn as the Swede untangles their hands to put his arm around his waist, subtly pulling Steven closer.

“Well, I guess I’ll come too then.” Oskar pockets his phone and mimics Kacper and Emil, putting on his coat. “Wouldn’t want you two to get lost” he jokes, ruffling Kacper’s hair.  
The latter just smiles at Oskar’s antics, pretty much used to it after a year.

They all say their goodbyes, and then Steven and Finn are alone, hidden by an abundantly decorated wall from the rest of the restaurant. They order another drink, and a small dessert to share. 

It’s the ultimate cliché, perhaps, eating ice cream together, spoon-feeding each other and getting whipped cream on both their noses, but there’s a reason it’s been done so many times. Sharing moments like this one with Finn makes Steven’s heart spill over with love. There’s just so many things to unpack- Finn’s silly giggles and cute smiles being the main culprit of his severe case of bursting-with-love heart. 

At some point they start kissing. Tasting strawberry ice cream on Finn’s lips isn’t something Steven has previously considered, but it only adds to the sensation. The short moments where they catch their breaths he gets lost in Finn’s eyes, the same way he always has. 

They only pull away from each other when Finn’s phone starts buzzing. Steven glances over his shoulder, to see that Oskar is calling. They share a confused look, he shrugs and Finn picks up.

Steven leans back as Finn talks. “Hey, Oskar. Everything alright? … Oh, shit, sorry! We totally forgot! … Really? But why- ah. Well, I think we were about to leave anyway,” Finn glances at him, and Steven nods affirmatively, “so we’ll meet you halfway, alright? … Okay, bye.”

“Is our date night cut short?” Steven asks jokingly.

Finn smiles at him as he signals a waiter. “We forgot to give them the keys.”

“Ah,” Steven says as he reaches for his pocket, “Shit. Of course.”

They quickly pay and get up, putting on their coats. Finn double-checks if they haven’t forgotten anything, and then they’re on their way. As soon as they step out the door, Steven has to brace himself against the force of the wind, bellowing through the night. A perfectly round moon lights their way as they fast-walk across the street, and deeper into Berlin.

\--x--

Emil shivers in his warm coat. Bringing gloves would’ve been smart, to stop his stupidly sensitive hands from freezing up on him, like they are now. Usually he takes his thick, insulated gloves with him wherever he goes, but tonight he’s just so happened to forget them. They’re already in his suitcase, next to his -according to Oskar and Finn over-the-top- collection of scarves.

As he blows some warmth into his hands, Emil wistfully thinks about his girlfriend, who he could’ve been giggling with over the phone by now, cozily wrapped in a wide array of blankets. She never does stop teasing him about his affinity for warmth. Emil smiles faintly to himself. He’ll be home soon.

“You’re such a baby for cold, Lars”, Kacper laughs when he glances next to him. Like he isn’t wrapped in a jacket and two coats, what a hypocrite.

“Well yeah, not everyone can have cold-resistance like Oskar and Finniboy.”

Oskar playfully ruffles Kacper’s hair when he sighs exasperatedly. “Didn’t Finn tell you to stop calling him that? I thought he didn’t like it”, the jungler remarks as he pushes away Oskar’s hand. 

“You know Finn,” Oskar cuts in, “he doesn’t tell people anything. He just asks vey politely.”

Emil giggles at that. It’s true that Finn tries to avoid being too straight-forward, so he isn’t perceived as rude in any way. How anyone would ever view Finn as anything but a live golden retriever is a mystery to Emil, but alas. People are complicated creatures. 

“Finn would be the perfect Canadian”, Kacper offers with twinkling eyes. “Immune to cold and always very kind.”

“Do you know the- the meme? If someone broke into Finn’s house, he’d probably apologize to the burglar for causing them trouble.”

Oskar and Kacper’s faces brighten at the vision, and truer words have never been spoken. Their shared laughter fills the quiet night air. 

They keep walking in silence, after, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Emil’s mind wanders to a dream he had, about a month ago. Even though its contents are all blurry by now because he hasn’t taken the time to properly write it down, the dream itself still lives with him, constantly looming over his shoulder. He’s not sure if that’s supposed to be a good thing.

As they cover the distance at a brisk pace, Emil can’t help but notice how empty the streets are. Uncharacteristically empty for Berlin, even at these times of day. When he shares his sentiment with Oskar and Kacper they nod, response unusually devoid of jokes. They’ve noticed as well, then.

A few minutes in, their post-conversational silence that was previously only broken by the sound of their steps and the wind gets disturbed by something else, and Emil turns to his team in confusion. They all stop walking. 

The noise gets louder, a sound like whispers overlapping and outdoing each other, crying out to be heard. It’s carried to his ears on hard gusts of wind. Emil shifts his footing to stand more securely, but even then the wind launches itself against him like there’s something personal going on. As far as Emil can remember, air doesn’t hold grudges, but what does he know?

“Guys,” Oskar says slowly, “Keep walking, okay? Maybe it’ll go away.”

Emil reluctantly complies. Gushes of wind fight their movements as they carry on slowly, huddled closely together. He doesn’t like the situation one bit, but seeing as there appears to be no way out, they might as well stick to their original plan. The whispers are probably just productions of the wind blowing through the city, anyway, but they do a hell of a good job at scaring him. Some moments Emil thinks he can hear words in them, but it’s mostly just gibberish to his ears. The only time he clearly hears a sentence, he dismisses it as someone talking nearby, just out of his sight. 

Even though they walk at quite a brisk pace, the surroundings seem to crawl by agonizingly slowly to Emil. He can’t be back inside, safe and sound, fast enough.

Kacper stops in his tracks. “Guys,” he whispers with a shaky voice, “do you see that too?”  
With a sense of impending doom, Emil follows his pointing finger. Huge clouds of mist have gathered in front of them, about twenty meters ahead. 

Emil looks around and has his fears confirmed. The three of them are standing at the epicenter of a huge mist front, closing in on them on all sides. 

But the mist is not what Kacper alluded to. It’s what’s in it. Only meters before them a figure has emerged, standing hauntingly still.

In a silence not even broken by shallow breaths, Emil struggles to tear his eyes away from the apparition. He tries to convince himself it’s not real. It doesn’t work. 

A deep, sinister grumble spreads through the air, shaking the figure a little. It’s laughing. Emil fights the urge to turn and run. Surely, this is some kind of elaborate Halloween-joke. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The figure steps forward. Its jerking, irregular movements make him seem more puppet than human, but his face is terrifyingly real. It’s rotten and ugly, but makes all the motions of a normal face. Undoubtedly, it once belonged to a man.

Dark, greasy hair sprouts from his rumpling skin, falling down onto his shoulders like tar-streaked rope. When the man laughs again, he bares a small number of brown, pointed teeth. Everything about him seems to have been in a state of decay for decades. He looks terrifying to Emil, who’s never been able to finish a horror movie without furiously cuddling someone. Emil flinches unwillingly when he starts talking.

Tipping his nonexistent hat, the man comes to a stop right before them. “I’m Jack, as I’m sure you know”, he says with a rough voice and a smile made for entertaining. His eyes shimmer in the dark, infinite pits of viciousness. “Now, who does ol’ Stingy Jack have the honor of meeting?”

Emil looks at Oskar. He’s shivering under his warm coat, though now he’s not so sure if it’s just the night’s chilliness, the white mist curling around his legs or the heavy dread coursing through his body. Jack stares at him unwaveringly, forcing his eyes elsewhere. He crosses his arms over his chest. 

Kacper doesn’t move, and so it’s up to Oskar to tell the creep off. Emil can feel the tension emanating off of him as he scrapes his throat nervously. “Jack. Excuse me sir, would you let us walk through, please? We have some friends to meet soon.”

As soon as Jack’s face lights up, Emil’s stomach coils in terror. Something’s wrong, deeply wrong. 

“Your friends, are they out here all alone?” Jack asks, eyes glinting eagerly. The large carved-out turnip in his hand moves lightly, casting faint, warped shadows everywhere. As if there wasn’t enough shit going on already, the street lights a few paces away start flickering as well until they go out one by one. It’s like they’re alone in the world. Emil feels more disconnected from himself and the world than ever before, and it terrifies the ever-loving fuck out of him.

Oskar nods subtly. His eyes are trained on the ground. “Yes, so if you’d let us g-”

“Nonsense! You’ll stay with me, lest you get lost, travelers. No, I’ll send someone to get them. These roads aren’t safe by night for folks like you.” He winks at them. 

Jack takes a coin out of his pocket and twirls it in the air. It twinkles and makes a dull sound as it lands in his bony hand, but other than that nothing happens. Holding it close to his greasy face, Jack whispers some unintelligible words at it, goes eerily still for a moment, nods, and pockets the coin. 

Looking up at them, he claps his hands together. His lantern shakes under the impact. “Now, now, I don’t believe you’ve given me your name yet, travelers.” The air gets heavy when he speaks, as if rain is about to start pouring from the sky. Perhaps it’s a warning sign not to comply, but Emil might just as well be getting paranoid, meaning the heaviness of the air is just the predecessor of a storm. When he looks up, the moon smiles brightly down on him. Nothing, not even a hint of clouds above his head. 

For the first time since Jack appeared, Kacper talks. “We’re not giving you anything, Stingy Jack.” The confidence in his voice conflicts with the shaking of his hands, which he tries to hide in his pockets. Seeing -the usually reserved or even hostile towards strangers- Kacper speak up like that has Emil wondering how much he knows. Impulsive as he may be with his friends, he would never say something so bold to strangers without reason.

Oskar doesn’t seem as much impressed as he does annoyed. Turning away from Jack, a truly daring move, he narrows his eyes at Kacper. Since joining Rogue he’s perfected his team captain identity, and he’s gotten used to being looked up to for answers and simple interactions with strangers, especially by the younger members of the team.

But even Oskar has to give in sometimes. Emil watches them with one eye as they stare each other down, simultaneously keeping watch of Jack. Kacper’s eyes practically beg Oskar to trust him, and eventually he does nod, his shoulders sagging just a little. He’s clearly not happy with it, but he trusts Kacper with all his heart.

“Well,” Jack starts slowly, eyes studying the three of them, “I suppose that’s fine. Why don’t you come with me, while we wait for your friends. Sooner or later, you’ll have to give me your names.”

The mist thickens around them, and Emil realizes he absolutely doesn’t want to go with Jack. His mother always told his sister not to follow creepy men, but in hindsight, she should’ve told him separately as well. Luckily he overheard them speak one night.

The howling of dogs echoes in the air, interrupting a strained silence. Jack’s eyes bulge from their sockets as he watches them intently. Even though he doesn’t appear to be carrying any weapons, he comes off as incredibly disturbing and scary. It’s something about the way he appeared out of nowhere, bringing the mist and his strange talks, his body looking like it’s in three separate stages of decay and the old pumpkin swaying from his hand. He looks like someone straight from a horror movie.

“You’re running out of time to choose”, Jack says. 

Emil looks uncertainly at Oskar and Kacper. He hasn’t said a word yet, just mentally trying to keep up with all that’s going on. Everything is so crazy, it could be a scene from a shitty movie playing in the late 2000’s. Seriously, how hasn’t one of them fainted yet?

Oskar looks at Jack inquisitively, not looking half as scared as Emil feels. “Is there a time limit here? What, will the mist gobble us up if we don’t follow you?”

The howling grows louder, and for the first time a shadow passes over Jack’s face. It’s gone as soon as Emil sees it, but something about those howls is troubling him. Whether that’s good or bad for them is yet to be decided. “You hear those howls? That’s an ancient creature, making its way towards us. Somehow she’s gotten wind of your presence. Now, if you’ll just follow me, I’ll take you somewhere no one will find you.”

“Right..” Kacper starts. “You’re not taking us anywhere, Jack.”

Oskar nods in agreement, supportively placing his hand on Kacper’s shoulder. “That woman, I think, is someone you really don’t want to see. And I could be wrong, but I think that’s because she knows about you, who you really are.”

Jack’s expression darkens. The candle in the lantern flickers ominously, like it’s an expansion of his body, letting his mood shine through. Suspense fills the air, leaving a tangy taste on Emil’s tongue. “You sure talk big for someone with such a fragile life, boy. Don’t think you know who I am, even if you’ve heard about me, which I’m sure you have. Second-hand stories are often colored completely different from the original. Only I know my true nature.”

“That’s pretty talk, Jack”, a woman’s voice sing-songs in the dark. “But how much of the story you would tell them is true, and how much is made to suit your interests?”

Jack turns away from them, a scowl engraved on his face. “Damn that hag”, he mutters to himself as dark eyes pierce the night, looking for the person to go with the voice. The flame in his lantern has grown pathetically small. 

Jack looks old and sickly next to the woman when she steps out of the darkness. Perhaps it’s because she stands about two meters tall, and nearly shines in the darkness, as if it’s lighting her from within. The dark brown, three-headed dog at her side growls intimidatingly at Jack, three pairs of eyes staring at him hungrily. It almost seems to be daring him to make a wrong move.

“Hecate.” It slips past Emil’s lips before he can stop himself. Oh, how glad he is to see her, even though he initially regarded her as creepy and intimidating. He remembers his dream of her at the gloomy crossroads now. Back then, she had three animal heads on her neck, a stark contrast to her current appearance. She’d warned him that a decision he made would bring harm to one of his friends. Of course, she also told him a bit about herself, and gave him a good scare when she told him to get lost, literally. But the bit about his friends has been on the back of his mind ever since, always edging on the line of his conscious. 

Hecate nods shortly at him. “Jack”, she starts calmly, “I’m starting to think you like being disciplined.” Her face is calm, an expression of divine superiority. Emil is glad he won’t be the one to face her wrath.

Now that Jack is reduced to not much more than a scared, pathetic excuse for a human being, seeing him try to save himself is quite amusing. “Surely, such excessive measures don’t have to be taken yet, Hecate. I’m sure there’s better options for both of us. Maybe we can come to an agreement, you and me.”

If there’s anything more terrifying than the giant creature at her side, it’s Hecate’s laugh. Not a kind giggle or knowing chuckle- a booming laugh that makes the foundations of the earth shake and moves darkness itself, making everything shiver. Emil steps closer to his friends. “Any deity who would still strike a deal with you is nothing but a pathetic human turned immortal. Begone, Jack. The next time you see the moon, the earth shall be void of life.”

All defiance seems drained from Jack. He opens his mouth to make one last remark, but changes his mind, tipping his imaginary hat. Then he disappears in the darkness, as abruptly as he came.

Some heaviness is lifted from the air when Jack disappears, making it a lot easier to breathe. Emil tries to keep his calm as they all stand there. He doesn’t want to break down in front of a goddess, or his friends, for that matter.

Kacper is the first to break the silence that ensues. “Thank you, Hecate”, he says reverently. He seems a lot less scared now, and Emil feels the tension drain slowly from his body as well.

Hecate smiles at him. “Call your mother once you’re home, I’m sure she’ll be glad to know you’re alright.” As she looks them over, her forehead creases. “There’s supposed to be more of you.”

Emil looks at her uncertainly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Hecate says, giving him a half smile, “that there are two people not here.”

“Finn and Hans”, Oskar says. Emil feels stupid that he didn’t figure that out sooner. “They’re supposed to meet us, they have the keys to the house.”

Hecate’s smile fades. She leans down, murmuring something to her dog before speaking up again. “Stay here with Fen. He’ll watch over you.” Before any of them can object, she’s gone.

A long silence ensues, and Emil debates trying to pet Fen. He seems nice enough, ignoring the predatory look he had earlier facing Jack. 

Fen stares back at him inquisitively, two of his heads cocked just a little. Something about him reminds Emil of his aunties dog Silly, a large Labrador who always loved to chase bug and shower under the hose in the garden. For all her playfulness, she fiercely protected her pack against what she perceived as threats, and Fen’s behavior towards Jack reminds him of that.

Emil steps forward, slowly approaching Fen. He wants to take this slow, give Fen all the room he needs- Or, that. Fen jumps at him like an arrow being released, his three heads almost knocking Emil over on impact with his stomach. Only his wagging tail indicates that this isn’t an attack, but in fact a very happy dog in search for some attention.

With a smile and his heart hammering in his chest, Emil outstretches his hand to pet the leftmost head. At first he goes about everything carefully, still unsure if this is a good thing. But when Fen’s right head fearlessly starts lapping away at his face, he soon finds himself pushing away at his three heads and aggressively rubbing the oversized dog’s belly. 

Oskar and Kacper have been watching him, their mouths agape. Emil giggles at their shocked expressions and motions for them to come closer, simultaneously trying to push away to of Fen’s head to stop him from slobbering all over his face. “Come, he’s actually really nice.”

“Ehm, you want us to pet the giant three-headed dog, belonging to the goddess of witchcraft and spirits? Are you feeling alright?” Oskar looks at him worriedly, probably to conceal how terrified he is to approach Fen. Surely he should know by now to trust Emil’s judgement, seeing as he hasn’t been eaten by the dark-chocolate colored dog yet.

Although Kacper looks as doubtful as Oskar, he takes a tiny step forward. When Fen doesn’t immediately turn against him, he takes another one, and again until he’s standing next to Emil and Fen. Emil smiles encouragingly at him.

Kacper slowly extends his hand, and Fen solemnly positions one of his muzzles underneath it. He pets it slowly. Fen beams at Kacper, tail hitting the ground repetitively. Before long he’s gained a second playmate, and after a lot of grumbling and stalling, a third. Emil laughs and wrestles and pets without a worry in his mind, completely unaware of the situation Finn and Steven have found themselves in.

\--x—

Steven tightens his grip on Finn’s hand as they hurriedly make their way down the street. Somewhere far off, the clock chime produces twelve drawn out rings that sound strangely deformed. Since they found out about each other’s dreams, an uncomfortable feeling has been lingering with Steven. It’s strange that they’re walking here, silent streets lit by a rare blue moon, and they can’t enjoy the serenity of it all together. Something just feels off.

Feeling Finn’s thumb rub over his hand comfortingly, Steven allows himself a deep breath. They’ll be fine. Sure, maybe he’s creeped out right now, there’s a mist gathering around him making his glasses fog up and he keeps hearing things that aren’t real, but soon he’ll be home and he can cuddle up with Finn and watch a crappy movie or some anime. This moment will surely pass.

Steven’s jaw clenches when he hears something again, the sound of dragging footsteps right behind him. He closes his eyes and waits for it to pass. He can feel his heart pumping in his chest when the sound persists, and Finn seems to notice it as well. There’s nothing there when he risks a glance over his shoulder. Finn looks at him, confusion written on his face, but all Steven can do is return the look. Unable to do anything else, they keep walking.

Steven does not expect things to get worse. The dragging footsteps could at least be attributed to an illusion of the wind, dragging leaves over the asphalt. When he starts seeing figures in the mist, his body is ready to shut down completely. The only thing anchoring him in the present is Finn’s hand in his, their shoulders continuously bumping together. 

“Keep walking”, Finn whispers shakily. So he sees them too, then.

A headless man atop a horse, women clad in white dresses flickering in and out existence and little bony children stare at him from the mist, visible in the corners of his eyes. They don’t seem quite real, morphing and changing form as the light illuminating them changes, their appearance as volatile as that of a shadow. 

When starts hearing the screeching and wailing, the eerie giggles and the ominous sound of hooves hitting the dirt, Steven’s heart clenches. 

“Finn”, he whimpers. There isn’t enough air to breathe, to say more. Steven is powerless to do anything as his body grows heavier with each beat of his heart, urging him to give up, let his legs buckle underneath him and his body hit the cold, hard pavement. How sweet it would be to be oblivious, void of panic and thought.

“Wow, hey, babe. Look at me.” Finn grasps his shoulders firmly, positioning them so the only thing in his field of vision is Finn and the wall behind Finn. “Look at me”, he repeats, gently nudging Steven’s chin upwards. 

Steven tries to focus on Finn, but everything is blurry and it’s already taking all he has to stop from shivering all over and to keep his knees from giving out and to keep breathing, there’s so little air to breathe- 

“Deep breaths with me, okay?” 

Finn has to repeat himself multiple times to get through the fog in his head. He’s patient, though, and eventually Steven regains some control over his breathing. 

Deep breaths.

Keep standing upright. Deep breaths. Don’t fall over. Keep going.

In the rare cases Steven’s mind does get the better of him, they usually take it slow after. Dimmed light, safe cuddles and a nice glass of water or hot chocolate always do the trick. Steven has never even thought about things being different, but the situation he’s found himself in now is pretty much the exact opposite of safety and belonging. At least Finn is here.

Finn looks at him apologetically as he retracts his hands. “We should keep moving.”

Steven shivers at the loss of warmth, but he complies silently, feeling too shaken to answer with words. As soon as he turns to face the world again his heart nearly stops. The mist is so dense now, it could be used to project a shitty horror movie without any details being lost. What’s happening.. looks like a shitty horror movie being projected in the mist. Shadows dance in and out of existence, women in white keep dissipating and reappearing, children run in circles and giggle creepily. 

A hand taking his has him looking down shortly. Steven’s shoulders sag faintly, and then they start walking, at a bit of a slower pace this time. Still faster than usual, though. Neither of them wants to be here a second longer.

As they walk, Steven forces himself to look around, trying his best to ignore the mist, which is getting increasingly more difficult. The complete lack of people on the streets is something he struggles to wrap his head around. They must’ve walked half a kilometer by now, all without seeing a single live soul. It’s disheartening. 

When he hears footsteps again, Steven cranes his neck almost hopefully. Maybe there’s other people who know what’s going on, maybe they’ll tell him it was all just an elaborate joke for Halloween. What a thing that would be. 

As it is, there’s no one there. Steven takes a deep breath and tightens his hold on Finn’s hand. Finn squeezes reassuringly.

Each second takes longer than the previous, every step doesn’t quite go far enough. They walk uncomfortably.

The wind brings along whispers, too warped to be recognizable as words. 

Something brushes against his back.

Finn’s hand goes limp in his grasp. He’s frozen in place. 

Dread coils in Steven’s stomach. Slowly, he turns around.

He can’t be much older than 10 or 11. A posture to fit a king confined to such a small child, barely reaching to Steven’s chest. He almost laughs at the hilarity of the situation. When he notices the black eyes piercing through his body his amusement melts into a puddle of trouble.

The child seems to have jumped right out of the Victorian era, with his worn-out hat and dirty brown coat, full of holes and patches in different colors. His face is set in a stern expression, way too mature for his age. It’s unsettling.

Steven leans into Finn, trying to suppress his dizziness. Neither of them move, locked in some kind of staring contest with the creepy child.

The corners of his mouth curl up into an eerie smile, and then the child starts talking. At first, Steven can’t comprehend a single word. 

“This place is different from how I remember”, the little boy starts. 

“When I lived here, there were puddles of mud to play in, and a big factory right there.” He points somewhere behind them. Steven keeps his eyes locked on the child. “I died there, with my little sister.”

Steven and Finn exchange looks. Uncanny giggling comes from the mist.

The boy’s dark eyes reflect the pale moonlight. “When I died, I lost my mama. I couldn’t find her for a long time. But I found her now.

“I found my mama”, he repeats. “Would you like to meet her?”

The absurdity of it all. Steven glances at Finn, trying to figure out how to get out of this one. Hopefully he will know, because Steven’s head right now is filled with pretty much anything but a coherent plan. 

The boy offers them his hand. His offer hangs in the air between them. Come with the creepy deceased child. Meet his probably equally creepy, dead mother. Or what?

As soon as Steven notices Finn’s doubtful look and the way his free hand is playing with the hem of his shirt, he makes a decision. “Finn, we’re leaving. Back up slowly.” 

Even though he talks as quietly as possible, it seems the sounds surrounding them aren’t enough to drown out his words. The child’s eyes latch onto him in an instant, blackness sucking out his soul. It – for in a matter of milliseconds, the child has gone from seeming somewhat human to a monstrous thing – talks with a distorted voice. Blood rushing to his ears should make it difficult to hear, yet somehow its voice rings through his head like an alarm bell. “You will do no such thing. You will not leave me. I will not be denied!” Extending its arms, it charges at him. 

The bloodcurdling scream is something Steven will never forget- it makes him want scratch off his skin and rip out his bones. But Finn grabs him by the arm and pulls him along, and then he’s running, uncertain of where he’s going or where he is. All he knows is that he can’t stop.

Far off in the distance, dogs howl. Their feet hit the ground with irregular thumps, and occasionally they have to catch each other, when one of them trips. It’s hard running when the road blurs in with the fog, making it impossible to see the ground clearly.

Even as they seem to be losing the demon child, other apparitions keep surfacing like dead fish in a poisoned lake. They’re not all living things, either. Sometimes whole houses will appear, until their existence gets lost in the fog again. 

The women in white are by far the most obnoxious, coming very close to him in their flaunting dresses. Their eerie beauty is terrifying, especially when they feel so real as the material of their dresses brush against him, making his skin tingle. 

They whisper sweet things, promises of forbidden lovers and seasoned romanticists, perfect words spilling from their lips like sweet honey. Their seductive words hum through the air pleasantly. With their hopeful eyes and beautiful complexion anyone could’ve been fooled into thinking they’re goddesses. 

The first woman he ran past had softly spoken to him with big eyes, like she was confiding her biggest secret in him. He’d almost stopped to drag her along and save her. Only when she stretched out her arms to him did he see the blood, still dripping from her wrists. He almost threw up. She’d killed herself.

Now his eyes frantically look for places without these women, who belong to the dead. A swarm of bats fly overhead, and Steven’s eyes desperately latch onto them. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen bats this big before, especially in Berlin. He’s never seen anything other than pigeons in the sky here. 

His foot gets caught on a loose cobble, and Steven nearly plummets to the ground. Finn pulls him up smoothly, but he’s panting with exertion. Neither of them is in particularly good shape, yet they’ve been running for – how long has it been, seconds? minutes? – now. 

“Do you think we’ve lost it?”

The sound of a living voice, even if it’s so hushed, seems through boom loudly through the night. Shivers run down Steven’s spine as he considers the child. “I don’t know. But I’m not waiting to find out, let’s g-”

He looks up to see a giant mansion looming over them. It must be centuries old, if it’s even real. He quickly glances back and forth between Finn and the thing in front of him, trying to discern if he sees it to. Surely an entire mansion like that can’t just appear from thin air. “..What the fuck?”

The sound of barking dogs comes from behind the house, luckily still a ways off. Steven resolutely turns away from the house. He is absolutely not in the mood to find out there’s werewolves as well, so going around the house isn’t really an option. And going in, well..

“I don’t really watch horror movies, but I don’t think we should go into the house”, Finn whispers into his ear. 

Steven nods. “Let’s walk back to where we came from. I hope that thing is gone.”

He hasn’t even set two steps when the shadow of a small figure materializes before him. The hair on his arms rises. 

In every sense of the word, the kid seems to have mutated. Its giggly, cheery voice is constantly interrupted by heavy laughter, and it’s grown taller, lankier, bonier. It’s as if his flesh is leaving his body, deflating like air escaping through a microscopic hole in a balloon. 

“Let’s play a game.”

Its hand is more that of a beast than a human child, with long, yellow-brownish nails curving sharply. Steven takes a shaking step backwards. Finn is breathing heavily on his right, clutching at his hand. 

Steven is rooted to the spot when the little demon starts moving. Dread fills his heart and freezes his body, rendering him unable to do anything but watch as it comes closer, moving like a large, two-legged spider. 

Before either of them can react the child is right in front of them. Its hand moves quicker than Steven’s mind, leaving three long gashes in Finn’s shirt and the supple flesh of his stomach underneath before either of them can react. 

Finn’s face goes dangerously white as he realizes what’s happened. With a pained sound he staggers backwards until he collapses against the wood of the mansion. Steven glimpses backwards to see him collapse there just as a large shadow emerges from behind the house, accompanied by fervent howling from all sides. 

The child giggles menacingly with its distorted vocals and then Steven is caught between two threats. He tries not to look at Finn, knowing that he’ll break down if he does; he can’t stand seeing his darling hurt while not being able to do anything. At least if he’s still standing, he can protect him for as long as possible. Draw the child and the hound’s attention away from their prey, who lies squirming in the grass.

Feral howls echo through the night. The moon shines down on Steven from above, its light cold and harsh and unwelcoming tonight, nothing like he remembers it to be. The giant, black dog has ventured closer to him already, now only about five meters to his left. Though the child itself is nowhere to be seen, its shadow is cast onto the mist every now and then. It moves more effortlessly than flowing water.

Behind him, Finn’s breathing is going shallow. He’s clearly trying not to make any sounds, but occasional whimpers still spill from his lips, breaking Steven’s heart into a thousand little pieces. 

He doesn’t even see the next attack before it’s too late. The little demon aims straight for his neck; he should be dead. Maybe he is.

A second passes with his eyes squeezed shut. Then another. There’s nothing but a skull-hurting ringing in his ears. 

With a shaking hand he reaches up to touch his neck and find it unscathed. Blowing out a shuddering breath Steven opens his eyes, and only then does his hearing return to him. 

A terrible shrieking fills the air, a hundred times worse than some of the temper tantrums he’s seen his nephews throw. The sound scrapes away at his internals and Steven has to cover his ears before looking for the source.

The big, terrifying dog is tearing into the child with godlike force, tearing it to shreds so easily. It’s something mesmerizing to see, in the same way people can’t look away from the most terrible events- traumatizingly enthralling.

After a few horrible seconds Steven tears his eyes away from the scene. Finn is behind him, barely conscious, and he’s going to use every moment of this temporary respite to be there with him. Who knows if this could be the last moment he’s able to curl up against Finn, and their bodies are both still warm and shaking and buzzing with life from the beating of their heart. Somehow, somewhere in his shocked mind, Steven is starting to make peace with the possibility that only one of them – or none – might survive. 

Still his eyes are brimming with tears as he takes place next to Finn, feeling the weak grasp of his hand, tarnished with his own blood. Still he has to suppress the urge to scream when he sees the wound, rapidly producing blood that completely covers the underside of his shirt and jacket. Still he wants to tear out his organs when he sees the weak fluttering of his lashes, like the final attempts at flying from a dying butterfly. 

His boyfriend opens his mouth, but nothing comprehensible spouts forth from them. He whimpers, then, curling up against Steven as his body is wrecked by sobs and shivers. 

“Shh”, Steven whispers unsteadily, desperately. “You’ll be okay, We’ll be okay. I’m here, I’m here now, chéri.”

As they hold onto each other, both of them squeeze their eyes shut. They close out the world one last time, banishing it from their thoughts and feelings.

Steven isn’t even sure if he feels anything anymore. Everything that was there seconds ago is gone; the stinging on the soles of his feet, the burning of the cold wind against his cheeks or the scuffing of the exposed skin on his back against the rough planks. All he’s aware of is his hand on Finn’s chest, feeling his rapidly beating heart. As long as that heartbeat persists so will his strength.

Time passes in a blur, so much so that Steven might be dead as well as alive- he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to.

He just wants to be sucked into oblivion.

Sweet, black oblivion. Not as good as being with Finn, but better than being without him. Anything over having to be alone.

The feeling of something touching his arm sends Steven crashing back into reality. Adrenaline pumps through his exhausted body as it prepares itself for one last struggle. He throws his body protectively in front of Finn before even knowing what’s happening.

He crashes right into a woman’s slender arm. Her piercing black gaze is familiarly confusing when he risks a glance at her face. Hecate.

She waves her finger at him like a preschool teacher. “Now, now. That wasn’t necessary, Steven. I’m just going to speed up Finn’s healing process, here.” Her voice is so calm and unbothered when she speaks. It’s almost like this is just a routine job to her and someone’s life isn’t depending on what she can do for him in the next few moments.

Steven doesn’t know how to work his tongue as he watches her. If he did, he’d probably curse his poor grandma out of her grave, bless her Christian soul. All he can do is sit in silence as she works her ways, and watch withed numbed amazement as bit by bit, Finn’s ashen face starts to regain traces of its usual color.

Hecate works silently and she works quickly. The movements of her hands are hidden from Steven’s view, so he fixes his gaze on Finn through a haze of tears. Finn looks back at him with a weak, scared and pained face, yet somehow it still radiates love and devotion. Even though he adores living, it’s clear that Finn wouldn’t have shied away from sacrificing his life for him. 

Steven carefully curls up against him, seeking a warmth he feels has been missing since they stepped into this cursed night. “You could've died, Finni”, he murmurs shakily into his sleeve. “God, I could have lost you, you idiot.”

Pushing his face further into the fabric, he struggles to control his tears. It’s all starting to dawn on him now. If anything had gone different, he could’ve been here, crying over Finn’s lifeless body or laying right next to him, motionlessly in the grass. The idea of dying himself doesn’t bother him as much as it should. After all the shocks it had to withstand, Steven’s heart was already starting to accept its fate.

A weak hand cups his cheek. “I’m sorry.” It’s nothing more than a hoarse whisper spoken next to Steven’s ear, just barely audible. But his heart jumps at the familiarity of that voice, of those words, and then he just has to kiss those pretty lips, to make sure it’s really Finn, and not some product of the mist getting into his head. 

Their lips collide clumsily. The tears on both their lips taste salty and they only kiss so shortly before Finn reels over in pain from a wrong movement, but it’s the best kiss Steven’s fuzzy mind can remember. He leans forward again, careful not to hurt Finn this time, to place a kiss on his forehead. As an apology, and to confirm again that everything is real. 

If everything is real, this night will haunt him forever.

But Finn is still alive with him.

And that’s really all that matters.


End file.
